After Many a Winter
by skeptyx
Summary: Harry and Snape meet again after more than twenty years. Preslash. Ficlet.


**After Many a Winter**

Snape had changed. For some reason, Harry couldn't stop staring at him.

The invitation for Snape's retirement party, sent by Headmistress McGonagall, had taken Harry by surprise: the Potions Master was just sixty years-old — a rather young age, considering the average wizard's life span.

Harry, now an experienced Auror, hadn't seen Snape for more than fifteen years, and was fascinated by what he was seeing. Snape looked more tranquil; the lines on his face and the grey strands streaking the black hair gave him an air of wisdom and respectability. Harry also noticed Snape's hair wasn't so greasy as it used to be.

Eager to observe Snape without distraction, Harry got rid of a bunch of Weasleys by claiming he was going to fetch more champagne. From that new angle, he could see Snape's dress robes: black, with a high collar, and emphasising the elegant lines of his body.

Suddenly Harry realised Snape had noticed his interest. Snape excused himself and left a handsome young man alone to come towards Harry, a half-filled glass of champagne in his hand.

"Mr Potter, may I inquire what you find so fascinating about me?"

Harry blushed and felt furious with himself for that. "Er..."

Snape smirked. "Eloquent and articulate as always, I can see..."

"Oh, Merlin. I feel like I'm eleven years old. You always do this to me."

"Really? Why would that be?"

"When I was eleven, it was because I was afraid of you."

"You, afraid? I doubt it. You have always loathed me."

"Oh, yes. That, too. But you loathed me as well, so..."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Our feelings were reciprocal."

"Exactly."

Up close, Snape looked even more attractive, and Harry was mesmerised by his mere presence.

"You still haven't answered my question," said Snape.

"What do I find so fascinating about you? Well... it's more the fact that you exist."

Snape frowned. "Once your father said the same thing to me, but in the opposite sense, I expect."

"I remember that. I mean, I saw it, in the pensieve." Harry blushed again. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologising for? For your father or for having disrespected my privacy?"

"Both, I think. And everything else. I was a fool. Always blaming you for everything that happened, when you were just trying to help me."

Snape gazed at him intently. "You have already apologised when you gave evidence in my favour at the trial. If it weren't for your testimony, I would have been sentenced for Dumbledore's murder."

Harry nodded. "But we had never talked personally before."

"You have been living a _hectic_ life."

"Oh." Harry felt his face grow hotter than ever. "You've been reading the _Daily Prophet_? Almost everything they say is a lie. You know how it is, when there is no news, they make it up. I'm glad they've finally stopped playing matchmaker for me."

"Why have you never married?" asked Snape, fathomless black eyes boring into Harry's.

"Er... I think that, when Ginny died in the war, I lost interest in permanent relationships."

"Ah. So the _Daily Prophet_ didn't lie about your many... _affairs_."

"Oh, I did go through a phase of quick recycling of girlfriends and, well, boyfriends, you know. But... it's over. I've been alone for more than five years now."

Snape frowned. "Don't get used to it. You run the risk of becoming a misanthrope like me."

Harry smiled. "You seem more social and friendly now."

Snape looked suspiciously at the glass he was holding. "It must be the champagne."

"What are you going to do, now that you're retiring?"

"Oh, I intend to frequent gay bars, all in leather and glitter, and make the _Daily Prophet_."

Harry burst into laughter. "Who are you, and what have you done to Professor Snape?"

Snape sneered. "I am not _Professor_ Snape any more." Then Snape's face assumed a graver expression. "In fact, I just want to devote myself to research."

"In Potions."

"Yes, Potions."

"I thought you preferred the Dark Arts."

"The Dark Arts are a fascinating study, indeed. However, for a lonely man like me, Potions is a more appropriate subject."

"I learned a lot from you, do you know that?"

Snape snorted. "You must have drunk too much champagne too."

"No, it's true. Only after I finished Hogwarts and started my Auror training I realised how much I had learned from you, both in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions. You taught me many things indirectly that I didn't even realise you were teaching me."

"I am very surprised to hear that. You are a prestigious Auror, and I have to acknowledge that not all of your prestige comes from the fame unfairly bestowed upon you for having survived Voldemort's first attack."

"If that was a compliment, thank you."

Snape smiled, this time with just a slight hint of sarcasm in his eyes. Silence fell upon them, and Harry feared Snape might go away, and he would never see him again.

"There is a subject I have tried to teach you, but you have never learned," Snape commented.

"Which one?"

"Occlumency."

"Oh."

Damn. Snape had been reading his mind.

"I shall answer the question you _haven't_ asked me with another question: Would you care to have tea with me tomorrow morning, in the tea room of the Hollyhock Park? Tomorrow is Saturday... Is 9 AM too early for you?"

Harry beamed. _It's a date,_ he thought, knowing Snape would be able to read his mind. "I will be there."

Finis

Note 1: The title parodies a line from a poem by Lord Alfred Tennyson, "Tithonus" ("And after many a summer dies the swan").

Note 2: There are two short sequels to this fic. I will post the second here. It's called "After Tea and Cakes". But I can't post the third one, because it is a MA fic. You can find all the three stories on my homepage (the URL is on my profile page here). The trilogy is called "Trigramarye".


End file.
